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The snow fell hard, blurring the view out the windshield. Jack looked over to the driver, his father. Castiel was focused, and determined in the way Jack wished he could be. Sometimes it was hard, and he thought that his father just had something he didn’t. Sam once said that some people are just different in ways we can’t understand.
Jack didn’t need to be told that.
Jack never fit in anywhere. Or, At least, that’s how it felt most days. It was odd. Half the time he felt like he didn’t belong to Earth, but it wasn’t like he belonged to Heaven either.
“You’re quiet,” Castiel said.
Jack turned to him. “Uh…
I am.”
Castiel eyed him. “That’s fine. I just…”
Jack smiled. He may not have belonged to Earth, he may not have belonged to Heaven, but he knew where he belonged. Right there. With Castiel—Sam and Dean. With his family.
Castiel cleared his throat. “So, about the hunt,” he said, shifting the conversation.
“Werewolves,” Jack said confidently.
“Yes, but—”
“They set up a camp on the mountain in an old coal mine. Or, in the building they used to bring the coal. There are at least two werewolves, at most three.”
Castiel eyed him.
Jack smiled proudly. He and Sam had done the research the night previous; Jack knew what they were getting themselves into.
“Do you have your knife?” Castiel asked.
“Yes. Do you have yours?”
“I do.”
Jack had a good feeling about the hunt. With Jack and Castiel working together, what could possibly go wrong?
[ … ]
The sixth werewolf lunged towards Jack; its sharp claws poised to rip into his throat.
Before the monster could make contact, Castiel pulled Jack to safety with a firm grip on his collar.
Jack stumbled down to his knees, sliding into a wall. He turned back to the action just as Castiel swiftly drove his angel blade up and into the werewolf's jaw.
The monster yelped in pain and staggered backward as another werewolf crept up from out of nowhere and jumped at Castiel.
Castiel spun around and caught the werewolf, but not before its claws had ripped through his coat sleeve, drawing blood from his bicep.
"Cas!" Jack jumped to his feet and lodged his blade into the monster’s back. He pulled his blade free, letting the monster fall away.
Castiel gritted his teeth as he clutched his bleeding arm.
Jack's eyes swiftly darted to Castiel's injured arm, then met his eyes.
“I’m fine,” Castiel said as he urged Jack along.
"But—"
"We don't know how many of them are out there, Jack. This was a trap.”
They quickly rushed out of the house, and as they walked in the direction of their parked vehicle, they realized just how bad the snow had gotten. The snow blanketed the ground in a piercing white and the wind rushed by like a runaway train.
They had parked their car far up on the road, hoping to make a silent entry, but now it seemed more of a nuisance than it was help.
Castiel took a shaky breath that took Jack completely by surprise. Castiel usually healed quicker than that, but he only seemed to be getting worse.
Jack feared that Castiel might not be able to make it back, especially with the bad weather they were having. The snow was a blanket of pure nothing everywhere; the only details coming from shadows. Castiel had once told Jack that angels didn't really need to worry about temperatures, only having a preference for it. Jack, on the other hand, hated being too warm or too cold (especially after a shower). Supposedly most humans were like that, but Jack needed to ask more to know if it were true.
As Jack turned to his father, he saw blood dripping down Castiel's hand and trailing in the snow, presenting a sharp contrast of bright red against the perfect white.
Jack looked into Castiel's eyes and saw the same concern he felt in his father's eyes, if only for a moment.
"We have to go, Jack.” Castiel's voice was edged with urgency. “We have to get you out of this,” he breathed.
"Cas…?"
"Now," Castiel said tiredly.
Jack nodded. “This way.”
I Hope.
As they trudged through the quickly rising snow, Jack noticed that Castiel was struggling. He had never seen Castiel act so… weak. Like when the Winchesters catch a flu and can’t walk properly.
Jack quickly took and pulled Castiel's arm over his shoulders, supporting him as they made their way.
The storm was getting worse by the second.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Castiel said.
Jack snapped his attention to him, a shot of fear running through him.
For what?
He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want the answer. Jack turned back to the task at hand, needing to find a way out of the storm. “We’re going to be fine. Look," Jack said, pointing to a barn-like building. "We can hide in there until the storm passes."
Castiel nodded weakly, his breath ragged as he leaned heavily on Jack.
A few moments of trudging along and they were outside of the archaic barn. It seemed to be a stable for the horses that used to haul the coal. Jack reached out and pulled the door open, leading Castiel in first.
Castiel stepped in, leaning against an old fenced of section when he slipped.
He dropped down falling to his knees, propping himself up with his good arm.
Jack rushed inside, closing the door securely before dropping to Castiel’s side. "Cas? Cas, are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaking. He could blame it on the cold if he had to, but he knew, deep down, he was terrified.
Castiel nodded, his face contorted with pain. He pushed himself back to his feet, leaving a trail of blood smeared on the ground.
Jack stared at the red on the ground as he reached for Castiel’s arm, helping him back to his feet.
They moved further into the barn, hidden away the best they could with Castiel acting so—
Castiel collapsed again, slipping right out of Jack’s hold.
“Cas!” Jack called as he followed him to the ground.
Castiel groaned as he rolled onto his back, exhausted. "Go," he managed.
Jack’s heart sank. “What?”
“Go.”
“No,” Jack refused.
Castiel pulled his keys out and shoved them into Jack’s hand, holding his hand over Jack's closed fist so he couldn’t drop them.
“No,” Jack refused. "I
‐
I’ve only driven once—I can’t drive in snow. Even if I could, I wouldn't go. Not without you."
“Jack, I… Something’s wrong. I'm not healing the way I should. You can’t stay and I can’t leave. It’s not safe here.” Castiel raised a shaky hand to Jack’s cheek, “Please go.”
“No.
I won’t leave you.”
"Please."
Jack shook his head, clenching his jaw.
Castiel’s hand dropped from Jack's cheek as his eyes slipped shut.
Jack caught his hand by the wrist. “Cas?”
Nothing.
With urgency, Jack sprang into action, trying to recall everything Dean had taught him about first aid. (But that was for humans…) He pulled out his blade and swiftly cut away the fabric of Castiel’s coat, revealing deep, gaping wounds that gushed blood. Jack looked on with wide eyes, his breathing picking up in a panic. Jack knew he had to act fast to help his father.
If Castiel couldn't heal himself, Jack would buy him time until he could.
With trembling hands, Jack tightly wrapped the cut sleeve around the wounds to slow the bleeding and tied it off as tightly as he could. He set his hand over the makeshift bandage and poured his Grace into it, but he knew he could barely manage to heal humans, let alone an angel. But he kept trying. He closed his eyes and poured all he had—
Castiel’s phone went off.
Jack shot his eyes open, startled.
He moved forward, patting down Castiel’s pockets to find the phone. He found it and pulled it out, answering it before checking the contact.
“Hey, how are things going with the werewolves?”
“Jody? It’s Jack.”
“Jack? What’s wrong? You sound a bit panicked there.”
Did he? He felt it, but he didn’t know he could sound like it too.
“There were more werewolves than we thought. And Cas got hurt,” Jack looked back at his father, “bad. He fell asleep and he won't wake up. And–and I can’t heel him…”
“Alright, it’s alright, sweetheart. Just hold on. I’ll—”
The line cut out.
Jack pulled the phone from his ear to see the blank phone screen. He tried turning it back on but found that it had died.
Jack set the phone down and looked off despondently. Frustrated, he stuffed the phone into his pocket.
Jack got to his feet and searched for something to keep Castiel warm. That would help him… right? When people lose blood, you need to keep them warm; Jack remembered that much.
He walked back the way they came and found some old horse blankets. They were covered in some hay, but they would do.
Jack dragged two blankets back to where Castiel still lay and covered him. He did his best to make him as comfortable as possible, but he imagined laying on an old, dirty floor was not very pleasant.
Jack sat by Castiel’s side as he bit the inside of his cheek. All he could do was wait and hope they didn’t freeze to death. Or, in place if it wouldn’t kill them.
Jack didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he looked around.
As Jack peered around the barn, he noticed swifts of snow swirling and pushing through the thin, wooden boards. The entire structure creaked and groaned under the howling wind. Jack couldn't help but feel a sense of fear and wonder, thinking the barn would collapse under the force of the tempestuous wind.
He swallowed.
He wasn’t having fun.
Jack took the other blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. It smelled weird; he supposed it smelled like horses. Cool.
He leaned close to Castiel and listened to the soft
thump, thump
of his heart, reassuring him he was still there.
"I won't leave you," He murmured.
At least Jody knew they needed help.
[ … ]
Something was off…
Jack opened his eyes and panicked for a brief moment when he realized he had fallen asleep.
He pushed himself back into a sitting position, then checked on Castiel, but he was still asleep.
Still.
He decided to just let him rest and wake when his body called for it. Though, he looked a bit better; Jack took some solace at the color in his face.
He stood and ambled away from his father towards where he saw that a far-off door was slightly ajar. Jack knew he had closed it when they entered, and he knew it was closed when he grabbed the blankets.
He stepped closer with a small tilt to his head—
Pow!
[ … ]
Claire pulled back the shovel to see the young man fall unconscious to the barn floor, but she barely paid him much attention. She looked around and found Castiel tucked under a thick blanket. She let out a relieved huff. “There you are. Now where’s…”
She turned back to the one she knocked out and… She leaned closer, trying to get a proper look at their face.
“Oh, crap,” she almost laughed. She slapped a hand to her mouth. She reached her hand out and poked his cheek, “Jack? You alright?”
He didn’t respond.
Her heart sank, and she muttered under her breath, “I… thought you were a werewolf.”
She leaned upright and tossed the shovel aside, not needing to do more damage than she already had, then walked to Castiel.
She stopped at the angel's side as she pulled off a glove. She reached to feel for a pulse and found one. She took a relieved breath, then took his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. "Castiel? Can
you
wake up? Please say that you can…"
His eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at her, his expression a mix of confusion and relief. "Claire?"
She smiled. "Hey, Jody called; said you were a damsel in distress."
Castiel sighed. "Where…? Where's Jack?"
Claire pressed her lips together. She clicked her tongue, “He’s over there. He’s–he’s fine.”
Castiel moved to sit up, and Claire helped the best she could, debating whether or not to move in front of him to hide Jack’s body from his line of sight.
Castiel snapped upright, staring right at Jack.
“He’s fine,” Claire rushed to say.
“What happened?”
“I… I thought he was a werewolf,” Claire said, feeling her face going warm. “I just reacted—I didn’t mean to hit him so…
hard.
Sorry?”
Castiel sighed. He turned to her with a sort of fond look she hadn’t seen in… wait, how long had it been since she saw him last? A few months at least.
She smiled a thin line in return. “Look, I promise he’s not dead.”
“You could not kill him.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Castiel frowned with a tilt of his head.
“Too far? Too far.” She stood and walked to Jack. She crouched down next to him and took his arm. “Hey, Jack? Can you hear me?”
He stirred slightly then finally opened his eyes. “Claire?” he croaked.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she said. “You’re okay. You just got knocked out.”
He sat up with his hand to his head, “By
what?”
She huffed, raised her eyebrows, and shrugged. “It’s a mystery.”
“Claire,”
Castiel said sternly.
Jack spun around. “You’re awake!”
“I am.”
“Look, this is great and all, but we should leave,” Claire said as she shoved her glove back on, “It’s getting bad out there.”
“It’s getting
worse?”
Jack asked, amazed.
Claire nodded. “Like a frozen hell.”
Jack looked at her in silence. Then he turned to Castiel, “Can Hell freeze?”
Claire rolled her eyes.